Cards Against Humanity is a game where you make hilarious sentences out of combinations of cards. Many of the combinations are entirely offensive and rude, but they often can make potentially interesting stories.

Here’s the first in a series of short stories inspired by random combinations of CAH cards:

The combo: Lifetime® presents [Space Muffins], the story of [Sniffing glue].

Arthur sat alone on the bridge of his ship, watching the stars pass as it traveled through hyperspace. The trip back from the salvage mission would take another three days, but he didn’t mind. Returning to his home on Ganymede simply meant that the adventure--if you could call it that--was over. He’d have to endure the bill collectors, his overbearing girlfriend, and everyone else who desperately wanted to shatter his peace and quiet. He was in no great hurry.

Since he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, Arthur reached over and pulled a small canister out of a hidden compartment. He was breaking any number of galactic regulations by even having it on the ship, but he didn’t care. He held the canister up to his face and pushed a small button on the side. With a soft hiss, it let out a cloud of invisible gas that smelled like leather and blueberries. He sank into the pilot’s chair and waited for it to wash over him.

It began in his toes. A subtle tingling that quickly worked its way up his legs, through his chest and out to the tip of his nose. He felt relaxed, even contented for the first time in days. He smiled as the tingling worked back down his chest and out to his fingertips, then back to finally settle in the back of his skull.

After a while, Arthur opened his eyes, and jolted when he saw the muffin that he had had for breakfast hovering a few inches from his face.

“How ya feelin’, Artie?” it said, crumbs falling everywhere as a mouth, if you could call it that, formed as the muffin split itself open in the middle. There were two blueberries on top of the muffin that moved around like they were eyes. They settled on Arthur.

“Umm. Fine?” Arthur replied, immensely confused. Shit, how much did I take? he thought.

“Hmmph, not for long. The Muffin God is greatly displeased with you…” the floating muffin said, in a very imperious tone.

“A breakfast item is floating before you, talking to you, and you’re skeptical? Well, in any case, you’re right, I’m just messing with you. This is entirely a figment of your imagination. Why you picked a muffin to commune with I’m not quite sure, but hey, it’s your own messed up head.”

Arthur merely blinked at the muffin. “Okay, sure. Do you, like, have a name?”

“Nope. Do muffins usually have names?”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. Let’s not encourage the talking muffin… “No, nevermind. So, why am I talking to a muffin?”

“I’m just here to dish out a little wisdom, be your ‘spirit guide’ or whatever. You know, you should really be nicer to Lily. She may be a handful sometimes, but she loves you, and she’s just trying to get close to you. Let her in once in a while, will ya?”

“Look, I don’t need relationship advice from a pastry, alright?” Arthur muttered indignantly, and started to stand up. His head protested harshly, the cockpit and the muffin spinning in his vision, and he quickly sank back down into the bucket seat.

“Yeah, you probably shouldn’t move for a while,” the muffin said sympathetically. Arthur grunted in mild agreement.

“Anyway, as I was saying, she loves you. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you, and you’d be devastated if you let anything come between you two. You just have to pull your head out of your ass and realize it.”

Arthur closed his eyes. He was still angry with Lily about the fight they had before he left, but he realized that he couldn’t even remember exactly what it was they were fighting about. The muffin’s words began to take root, and the anger faded somewhat. It would take a while to fully resolve things between them, but he knew that he needed to apologize when he returned home.

Arthur opened his eyes to thank the muffin, but it was gone. He looked around, bewildered, and his eyes settled on the chronometer on the ship’s dash. I’ve really been out for eight hours? The stars continued to sail past the window, the engine humming softly.

He smiled and shook his head. “I picked the wrong day to start sniffing glue.”